“Fuck you!” he screamed.
But seconds later, the fire died out. He was bald, and his face had turned red, but Pestone stood straight again. If anything, he seemed to grow in size.
How can I stand against so much greed and hatred?
Washta leapt for Pestone again, his muscles rippling with power. Seeing him so strong and determined gave me a bit of strength.
The wolf smashed against the sorcerer’s magical barrier again but didn’t stop trying to reach his prey as the man chased me. Washta leapt eight feet in the air trying to clear the ward, but it was no use. His incredible courage inspired me. He snapped and clawed at the barrier, roaring from deep in his chest.
Despite his protection, Pestone froze for a moment. “It can’t help you. Only you can attack me, and you’re done.”
True on both counts. The wolf had no magic. But when the fight ended, the barrier separating him from Pestone would fall. And sorcerers can’t use magic against non-magical beings.
“Yet!” I yelled at Pestone. “When the fight’s over, he’ll rip you apart. Your puny stick won’t do you much good against his slashing teeth.”
Pestone’s eyes opened wide. He realized the danger.
“Bastard!” I yelled. “If I lose, he’ll avenge me. Washta, make him suffer! Chew off his hands and feet first.”
I doubted the wolf understood me, but Pestone had to be thinking about what could happen to him. The beast was lightning quick and furious. He’d win with no trouble. The thought of being avenged warmed my heart a bit. At least he’d save the women.
A vestige of my ward reformed.
Washta raced along the edge of the shield, snapping his jaws and foaming at the mouth to get at the sorcerer.
Pestone stepped backward again.
I needed to keep him off-balance. I stood erect on the slope covered with small chunks of talus. “Time’s up, shit-face!” I yelled. “I hope you enjoy getting shredded by those huge teeth.”
Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to give up, either. The son of a bitch began battering my wall one more time. It wouldn’t hold up for long.
My mind whirled. What else could I do? Please Great Mystery Spirit, save me. Help me, Mórrígan. Wakonda…anybody.
I’d used up all my Holar power.
Pestone stretched out his cudgel toward me. BOOM! Lightning crashed against my shield, eliminating it, and the bolt fried me. Searing pain fogged my mind. But, like always, it vanished quickly. By some miracle, I’d survived.
But his next spell would put me down for good.
I was sick of fighting—couldn’t think clearly enough to come up with anything useful.
Pestone’s cackle rang in my ears. He knew I was toast.
I scoured my mind, grasping for any last chance. Something that didn’t rely on anger or mental focus. My Osage magic?
Washta howled, as though he was calling his pack from thirty miles away.
That gave me a wild idea. What if he and I were one? I took a moment to steady myself, then shifted my spirit into the wolf, and my body disappeared.
“Bastard!” Pestone yelled. “Vanishing won’t save you. You have nowhere to hide, and your power will give out soon.”
He ran to where I’d been and stretched out his arms, trying to find me. I avoided him easily with the wolf’s body.
Pestone didn’t recognize the real danger.
In my new form, I could easily run away, but that was the last thing on my mind. I was no longer exhausted or confused. The wolf’s indomitable spirit healed me. Without worrying about conjuring anything, I coiled my body to spring and flung myself at my enemy.
Pestone had lowered his ward to reach for me. He swung his staff around wildly, hoping to hit me. I ignored the glancing blow against my shoulder.
Didn’t care. My forelegs hit him smack in the center of his chest. He fell backwards, like he’d been hit with a battering ram. My momentum carried me onto him. While I stood on his chest, I snarled, my snout inches from his face. The temptation to bury my fangs in his throat was almost overwhelming, but I held back.
Just a few seconds. He’d better take this last chance to surrender, or I was going to rip his throat open.
“Okay!” Pestone screamed in a high-pitched voice. “I give up. Save me!”
The buzzing stopped. I bounded backwards while I could still control my instincts. The predator’s urge to kill was so strong.
To distract myself, I looked around. The waterfall continued to roar and tumble as though nothing had just happened. I lay on the ground, waiting for what came next.
My new slave shuddered and whimpered on the ground.
Chapter 21
AFTER I’D CALMED DOWN enough to be sure Washta would behave after I’d left his body, I drifted out of him, reformed my own self, and stood.
The canine remained in place. He was still stunned by what we’d done together. I hugged him tightly. “Thank you so, so much.”
He understood that the crisis was over, reared up on his hind legs, and licked my face.
I gazed at the heavens and gave thanks to the gods. They’d all pitched in. Then, it hit me. I’d actually beaten the toughest son of a bitch in the Boulder Valley.
Tightening my arms around myself, I burst into laughter. Tears streaked my face as I bounced up and down. We’re all safe from this twisted bastard.
Pestone remained on the ground, holding his hands over his face. I was tempted to kick him in the head as payback for what he had done to Maggie, among many others, but he was defenseless now. Even if he deserved to suffer far more for what he’d done, I couldn’t be his judge, jury, and torturer. Diana was in a much better position to decide his punishment.
I turned to Washta. “I’ve never felt so alive. I want this happiness to last forever.”
First things first, though. “I claim the spoils of victory,” I told Pestone.
Intense heat flowed through me, like I’d tumbled into a boiling caldron. The asshole had stolen so much magical energy. No wonder I hadn’t been able to beat him with my Celtic magic alone. It was a miracle that I’d been able to hold on as long as I had.
Euphoria flooded through me as I realized how much I could help other witches now. I staggered, struggling to stay upright until the flow of energy ended. Then I remembered my staff. I grabbed it—and his, too.
Pure joy filled me. At that moment, I could’ve taken on a dozen of Pestone and won.
“Idiot. How badly are you hurt?”
He propped up his torso to sit on the ground. His face was covered with deep scratches from my—Washta’s—claws. Blood covered his lower face and shirt. Most of his exposed skin had been scalded from the fireball I’d managed to get off. He looked ridiculous, bald as a pickle.
“My skin burns, Master. I feel weak.”
“Now you’ve had a taste of how each of your victims felt. Can you walk back?”
He’d have to tell me the truth.
He staggered to his feet and grimaced. “Yes, I think so.”
“It’s a long way,” I said. “Unless you want to spend a bitter cold night on the mountainside, you’d best keep up.”
“Yes, sir.”
The women had left both packs behind. No surprise there. I grabbed the heavier one and handed him the other. Hopefully, he’d be strong enough to carry it the entire way.
“Let’s move out.”
Washta headed down the trail first. Pestone followed him, and I brought up the rear.
“Did you park a vehicle at the trailhead?” I asked.
“Yes, Master.”
At least we wouldn’t have to walk back to the highway and bum a ride home. I let out a whoop. Everything around me seemed perfect. Everything sparkled in the afternoon sunlight as it filtered through some clouds to the west. I felt truly blessed by all the gods.
Pestone stumbled and swore, breaking my reverie.
He wasn’t going to rain on
my glorious afternoon. “Keep quiet unless you notice something that poses a danger to us.”
He nodded.
He stumbled from time to time, and even fell once, but I seemed to float a foot above the ground.
When we reached the trailhead, I noticed that someone had been smart enough to puncture the left rear tire of a fancy European SUV, the only vehicle in the lot.
I pointed at it. “Yours?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Change the tire.”
While he worked on that, I checked for a cell signal. Nothing.
A minute later, my new slave groaned. “I’m sorry. I can’t remove the lug nuts. I’m too weak.”
I loosened them for him and let him do the rest.
After he’d finally finished, I tightened the lug nuts on the new tire to be sure it would stay on. Then I told Pestone to sit in the back seat. Washta got the front passenger seat of honor and rode with his head out the window the entire way back to the ranch.
Just before we reached the entrance, my phone found a cell signal, so I called Diana.
“Farm Boy wins again, dread queen. Let the festivities begin.”
Her voice sounded more formal than ever. “I’m sitting with Tess and Laura, who’ve explained the situation. How do I know you aren’t trying to trick us?”
“I’m going to reach the wards at the ranch’s entrance in a minute. If I were a sorcerer’s slave, the wards would keep me out, right?”
“Yes, they should.” Then her voice sounded much more cheerful. “And even if they failed, they would warn us of any breach. Welcome home. Come to the garage, and I’ll meet you.”
Feeling magnanimous, I told her, “All your hard work paid off.”
Diana sighed. “I can’t believe it. Are you sure? Yes, of course, you’re sure. Thank the Mórrígan!”
I laughed and hung up.
I had no difficulty passing through the entrance, and when we reached the top of the ridge, I savored the panoramic view of the ranch, the surrounding forests, and the fabulous Rockies jutting upward in the west. This was a glorious place to live, and it finally felt like home.
Diana was standing alone outside the main building with a bottle of champagne in hand. Washta and I bounded out of the SUV. She deigned to give me a long hug, and her hands shook as she held me.
“At the time you called,” she said, “Tess and Laura were meeting with me and the rest of the council. We were planning an emergency evacuation of everyone. None of us expected that you’d be able to defeat Pestone.”
Luckily, I’d been too stupid to realize that, so I’d done my best and surprised them all. That felt good. “You said it yourself, ma’am. I’ve got the luck of the Irish.”
“Indeed. I’ve never been so pleased to be wrong. May I see your slave?”
Before I opened the SUV’s back passenger door, I gave the wolf a final hug and pointed to the barn. He took off.
Then I opened the door. Pestone still looked a lot worse for the wear, but he was sitting erect.
Diana looked down her nose at him with royal disdain. “Leave him here, but tell him to obey.”
I went through my spiel about him doing exactly what Diana and anyone else acting on her behalf directed.
“Yes, Master, of course,” was all he said.
Diana led me to her office, which was empty. She pulled two champagne flutes out of a cupboard, and we toasted my victory. Then we sat on the sofa.
“Hopefully, the others got back safely despite being scared to death,” I said.
Diana nodded. “Now, they’re arranging a celebration worthy of your victory. I wanted to see you for myself first, so we can tidy up any loose ends.”
She took my hand, and we wove magic together for the first time. It was a strange experience, nothing like the closeness I’d felt with Laura. Images from the fight flashed through my mind, and my whole body tensed with worry, even though I knew everything would work out in the end.
When she’d finished ransacking my brain, she smiled at me for the first time. “Your stubbornness won out. I’m pleased to see that you never stopped trying. You certainly belong in the Holar Order. I will induct you—”
“Whoa! Don’t get too far ahead,” I replied. “Not interested in secret societies.”
“Your accomplishments should be recognized by your peers. Plus, you need to take a leadership role in the clan, helping others develop their talents. I’ll appoint you assistant master of arms.”
I noticed that she hadn’t mentioned any real power, like a seat on the council, but that was fine. I had no political ambition.
“I like my current status in the community,” I said. “And I don’t want other witches to know about me. I’m still figuring out the basics of this crazy world, so I’d prefer to keep my new powers secret. Don’t tell anybody outside our group who clobbered Pestone.”
Diana tipped back her head and stared at the ceiling. “I prefer to throttle you, but I don’t always get what I want, either.”
Fighting a grin, I said, “Honestly, even if I wanted to join an order, which I don’t, it wouldn’t be Holar. I’m tired of saying it, but I’m a medicine man, not a Celtic warrior. The spells I’ve learned from Tess sure helped, but Osage magic won in the end.”
“Perhaps, but I’ve seen your memories. Your Celtic magic is already better than that of many witches in the Holar Guild, and you’ll continue to get stronger for decades to come. If I were to ask Pestone what he thinks, I’m sure he’d say you’re a better fighter than anyone he’s faced before.”
The woman could be ridiculously stubborn. I rubbed my forehead and thought for a moment before I said, “I’m better suited to a tribal guild, if there is one.”
Diana grimaced. “Are you refusing to obey me? You’re still my vassal.”
No, I sure as hell hadn’t forgotten that she’d once made me kiss her shoes. “Just askin’ questions, my liege. You know I’m more attuned to nature and animals than people.”
“What if you could belong to two guilds?” Diana asked. “Then would you make me happy for a change?”
I thought I just did. But I blew out a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll admit I owe you…a lot.” Although I’d never been sociable, I couldn’t turn her down. “I’ll participate in your guild if I can belong to a tribal group at the same time.”
“I’ll check with Samuel,” she said in a softer voice. “But I’m certain he’ll support me in this matter.”
Of course he would. I bowed toward her.
She smirked at me, and then stood up from the sofa. “In the meantime, let the festivities begin!”
-o-o-o-
THE LIQUOR FLOWED FREELY as I described the battle as accurately as I could remember it. Soon everyone understood what a fiasco the fight had almost been. Dozens of people had crowded around me and were listening silently. When I described my last-ditch decision to transform into Washta, everyone cheered.
All’s well that ends well.
Later that evening, we feasted on lobsters and steaks. The wolf got his portions barely warmed, which was how Herman thought he’d prefer them. After all, the beast was the true hero of the day.
I played with Rascal and Christina as Laura, Tess, and the others speculated about how the Boulder sorcerers would react to their loss. Some witches thought the sorcerers would freak out, but Laura reminded them that the enemy still controlled most of Colorado and the country.
Her view—and I agreed—was that the sorcerers would retaliate immediately, but I refused to worry about that yet.
Before I downed too many beers, I called Grandpa and recited the basic facts, leaving out the magic because it seemed more likely than ever that our phones were tapped.
That didn’t stop him from laughing when I told him that Pestone lost the fight.
“Excellent. I’ll have to send one of your many cousins to hear a blow-by-blow account so he can report back to me. Thanks to bl
essed Wakonda, all is right in our world. For the moment, anyway. It’s more important than ever that you get stronger, grandson. Your family here sends all their warmest regards.”
I told him about Diana’s plan to send me out into the hinterlands to help families like ours. He heartily approved. “No one should have to endure what we suffered. Do as Diana says, and you will be rewarded threefold.”
After I hung up, I sat next to Laura and put an arm around her. I’d almost lost so many blessings up on that mountain, but it was my relationship with her that mattered the most to me.
She leaned against me and whispered, “I’m so glad you kicked his ass.”
“I am too,” I said.
~Finis~
Thank you so much for reading the first book in The Sorcerers’ Scourge urban fantasy series. For the latest book news about this series, join my email list here. No spam.
Ian’s adventures continue. Turn the page to read first chapter of the second book in the series, Sanctuary. This book will be available for preorder in the Kindle Store shortly, and it will be published on March 1st.
Book 2 Excerpt—Sanctuary
Wednesday, October 16th
Mayor Zack Byrne’s Home, Boulder, Colorado
THAT EVENING, I FACED one of my worst nightmares—a party full of strangers having fun. I was standing with our clan’s druid priestess, Diana Murray, outside an old stone house in the fanciest part of the city. A tall sugar maple blazed orange and red as it towered over us like some mountain ready to crash down on us. In front of the house, scarlet viburnums and sand cherries were putting on their own scarlet displays, like their leaves were soaked with blood from some recent slaughter.
No one else seemed to see the warning signs. A dozen people were wandering in groups out on the front lawn, eating hors d’oeuvres and drinking as though their lives weren’t about to end at any moment. The headline tomorrow would read, Horrific End to the Mayor’s Fiftieth Birthday Party!
“Why do I have to endure this brain damage?” I asked Diana. “I hardly know Zack Byrne.”
Lone Survivor: The Sorcerers' Scourge Series: Book One Page 24
